


lukewarm with my intentions

by kyoloren



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Solo is a Mess, Blood and Injury, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Knives Out, Prompt Fill, Rey can detect lies and throws up when someone lies to her, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyoloren/pseuds/kyoloren
Summary: Rey Johnson has been cleaning the Organa-Solo house since she was fifteen. She’s slowly found herself falling for the youngest Solo, prone to outbursts and hating most of his life. But she knows someone good is inside of Ben, if only she could make him see it.Rey finally plucks up the courage to tell him how she feels. Ben responds in kind--but it's a lie.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 16
Kudos: 169
Collections: Galactic Idiots Collection





	lukewarm with my intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is based off of the following prompt by [@galacticidiots](https://twitter.com/galacticidiots/status/1264613173652529152):
> 
> _AU where Rey can taste lies — think Marta from Knives Out but for other people — and she’s been in love with Ben for years. When she finally finds the courage to ask him how he feels about her, he tells her “I don’t love you.”_
> 
> _It almost makes her throw up._
> 
> _Why would he lie?_
> 
> I went really angsty and leaned into the vibes from Knives Out, but this is not a KO AU.
> 
> Lightly edited by me! hopefully there's not too many mistakes.

* * *

Rey couldn’t believe she was doing this. What purpose would this serve? Her stomach was in as many knots as the fringe on the bottom of her jumper was. Why was she wearing her fringy cardigan anyway? It made her look a hundred years old.

She rubbed her face with her hands and groaned into her palms. 

Every time the bell over the door jingled, she jumped, eyes racing toward the newcomer. Every time, it wasn’t him. 

She should have known better.

With shaking hands, she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, opening the messages:

Ben Solo  
  
**Ben:** I’m back in town. Is the house ready?  
  
**Rey:** Yes.  
  
**Rey:** Could you meet me at the Cantina Shack at three?  
  
**Ben:** What for?  
  
**Rey:** I have something to tell you.  
  
**Ben:** I could eat. See you there.  
  


And yet, it was three-fifteen and he wasn’t here. She shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t like she didn’t _know_ what kind of person he was. She had been there each time he came in half-beaten, cursing the stars and gods across multiple religions as he trailed blood through the house that she would later clean. She’d overheard the screaming matches between him and his mother. She had stood awkwardly with his father as said screaming matches could be heard throughout the entire estate.

But somewhere, deep inside, she knew he was a good person. He was a good person struggling to get out. She knew because she threw up around him a lot.

Which was equal parts gross—for both of them—and equal parts eye opening. 

The self-deprecating words he believed, wholly and deeply, but some things he spat out, lies spilling off his tongue like venom. She tasted all of them and hated it.

At three-thirty, the bell jingled again and Rey didn’t look up. She unhappily munched on her panini and nearly choked when someone walked up to the table and said her name.

“Ben!” she exclaimed as he sat across from her. It had been months since she’d seen him. The wound on his face was now a scar, stretching over the right side of his face in a pink line. His hair was long and black and his eyes still made her uncross and recross her legs, her body abuzz.

“I’ve got major jet-lag,” Ben said, throwing his whole self back into the seat. He could almost fill one side of the both himself.

“Where did you come from?” Her sandwich felt heavy in her stomach. Why had she eaten? She bit down on the inside of her cheek.

Ben waved a hand like it didn’t matter. “What did you want to tell me?”

A waitress came up and Ben ordered something. Rey wasn’t paying attention. Once she was gone, Rey pushed her barely touched panini across the table at him. He glanced at her face, saw whatever it was he was looking for, and shrugged. 

“It’s—nothing,” she lied. She could lie so easily, but she didn’t like doing it. It made her wonder if other people were out there like her. Would they overhear her lies and have to rush to find somewhere private?

Ben inhaled her sandwich like it was going to expire in ninety seconds. “I drove all the way out here because you asked. Could it have waited until tomorrow?”

Rey swallowed, hands twisting around her sweater fringe under the table. “This isn’t really how I thought it would go,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

Ben leaned into the table, his arms resting against the top, hands almost reaching her. “Tell me. Come on, Johnson.” 

He could be charming—at times. Wasn’t that why she liked him? Because there was a real person under all that armor and all those walls he’d built up around himself?

Taking a deep breath, she was thankful for the corner booth by the window. It sat alone, up on a small platform so people rarely sat there. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders, folding her hands together and laying them on the table. Her elbows brushed his fingers.

“I should tell you somewhere else, but I’ll say it now before I lose my nerve.” She closed her eyes and then opened them, meeting his heavy gaze with her own, light hazel and probably a little terrified. “I’ve known you for a long time, and I couldn’t—couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you snoop through my room?” His tone was close to teasing.

Her chest felt tight. “No. Ben.” Could time stand still? If it could, Rey thought maybe it was doing that right now. “I love you.”

It didn’t feel any better to have said the words. She felt sick and it had nothing to do with lies.

Ben sat there, staring at her, waiting for…more? She pressed her lips together and that was that.

He blinked and sat back. 

“This is the part where you say something back,” Rey said. She was hopeful. She was humiliated. She wanted to have a gods damned Time Turner so she could go back two minutes and never have had this conversation.

“Like what?” Ben said, his voice sharp as a knife.

Rey’s hands disappeared under the table again. “I don’t know, Ben.”

She watched the muscle in his jaw twitch. His hand tapped a rhythmic beat against the wood table. 

“Well, I don’t love you.”

Rey’s stomach gurgled. She pressed her hand over it. 

“Thanks for ruining my fucking lunch,” he said after a beat as her brows furrowed in confusion. He got up, knocking into the table and cursing as he stormed his way out of the Cantina.

Rey bolted from the table, through the swinging doors nearby to the bathroom. She barely got there before she threw up her lunch. With shaking fingers, she walked to the sink and cupped her hands under the stream. She swished out her mouth and then washed her hands. Once she was done, she gripped the edge of the sink and peered into the mirror.

Rey had the unfortunate sensibility to tell when someone was lying. When she did, she threw up. Her body couldn’t handle the lies of others.

So that meant—that _meant._

“He lied,” Rey whispered to her reflection.

_Why had he lied_?

Rey knew exactly where he would be. She’d been working there as their cleaner for five years. Humiliation kept her from going over to the Organa estate that very day. Instead, she went home, confused, ate an ice cream sandwich and watched a sitcom. She fell asleep and woke up with the wrapper stuck to her face.

“What a joke,” she muttered about herself as she walked into the bathroom to clean her face. Once back in the living room of her flat, she grabbed her phone, opened her messages to Ben, read them, hovered her hands over the buttons and then closed out.

She did this about twenty times. Was he drinking? Or did he go home and immediately sleep? She didn’t know where he’d been on his trip so she couldn’t calculate if this was a time of day he would be awake or asleep. 

But she couldn’t wait until morning.

As she made up her mind, her phone buzzed. She dropped it and cursed.

It wasn’t from Ben, but it was from his mother.

Leia Organa-Solo  
  
**Leia:** Hi dear Rey, I hope you’re doing well. I’ve gotten word that Ben is back at the house. If he’s any trouble, you know you can call me. I’ll come over and set him right.  
  
**Rey:** Hi Leia. That shouldn’t be a problem. I hope you’re enjoying your vacation!  
  
**Leia:** I am. Han is too, though he’ll never admit it. Take care of yourself and I meant what I said.  
  


The last thing Rey wanted to do was go running to “Mummy dearest”. She could handle Ben. Even after her confession and the confusion following it.

This time, she would go prepared. She stripped down to her bra and panties and sorted through her closet, finally settling on a pair of black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. Simple, but at least it wasn’t frumpy. She even lined her eyes with thin black and smeared on tinted chapstick.

That was about as good as she got.

She could drive from her flat to the Solo’s house blindfolded. The trip took exactly twenty-seven minutes. Ben’s car had been taken out of the garage, a flat-black ’69 Charger. Some of their nicest interactions were when she brought food out to him in the garage when he was working on it, all sweaty and greasy.

It was parked badly in the driveway.

Rey put her cheap Ford into park and cut the engine. The house was grand, looking like a classic Victorian; it was, she supposed, though it had been added on for generations. It was like a maze inside at times, but she was used to it by now.

She walked in through the front door, which was unlocked. There was security around the grounds, but it didn’t stop Rey from being concerned if he passed out and the door was open. 

Rey purposefully closed the door loudly behind her. “Ben?” she called out. He could be anywhere. She poked her head around the main floor, which was the most straightforward floor of the house. Living room, parlor, den, kitchen, three bathrooms, and the staircase up to the second floor taking up most of the foyer.

He wasn’t there, so she headed up. 

At the top of the stairs was a bathroom, and he was just walking out of it. He was shirtless, showing his broad chest, littered with scars; more than she could count. He looked at her, frown carving deep lines in his face. “What are you doing here?” he asked shortly.

“I wanted to see why you lied,” she said, holding her arms stiffly at her sides. She refused to fidget, she needed to be be confident about this, or he wouldn’t budge. She knew him well enough.

He squinted and ran a hand through his hair, messed by sleep. It fell right back in his eyes and he started to walk. She followed, the sound of her wooden soled boots softened by the carpet lining the halls. 

“You lied to me,” she repeated. “You know I can tell.”

Ben huffed and turned into what looked like a dark room but it was another hallway. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rey swallowed. “I know we haven’t always—seen eye to eye, but I meant what I said.”

He didn’t stop. He wouldn’t look at her. She followed, determined. 

“Good for you,” Ben said. “Now if you’d go, I’d like to get back to sleep.”

“It’s eight.”

“I’m tired.”

That was true. She felt only a little bad keeping him awake. “I know you lied. You—” she couldn't say that he loved her. She couldn’t know for sure. All she knew was that he didn’t _not_ love her. That could mean anything. “There must be something there, Ben.”

“Where?”

“Between us,” she said quietly.

He laughed and it cut through her. “On what grounds?”

“Before you went and disappeared for four months,” she said, her anger rising.

“I cut my face open and went on a little soul searching journey. What about it?”

Rey fisted her hands, glaring at his broad shoulders, the muscles rippling as he swung his arms. “You _kissed_ me.” Rey emphasized the word.

“Yeah. I kiss a lot of people,” Ben retorted, still moving around the house, forcing her to follow him to talk.

Rey bristled. “That meant something and you know it.”

She could still remember it like it was yesterday. In fact, before today, it was her most recent memory of him. 

**

Four months ago, when he’d come home from the hospital, his parents were gone but she was still there, eating dinner.

His face was covered in bandages and he startled when he saw her. “What’re you doing here?” he’d snapped.

“Eating,” she stated the obvious. “Did you get into a bar fight?”

Ben grabbed a bottle of liquor from the standing cabinet. “None of your business.”

She’d found him half an hour later, cursing in the upstairs hall bathroom. He was poking at his face, the bandage ripped off and in the trash, stained with blood. His face was a mess, stitches over his eye, across his cheek, the skin around it dark and bruised.

“Can I help?” she asked.

He’d jumped and poked too hard. Cursing again, he swung his gaze at her, sharp as daggers, but all at once the fight flew out of him. He sank down on the closed toilet seat. “It hurts,” he said simply.

She stepped forward. There was dried blood among the stitches. “Do you want me to clean it? I think you should.”

Ben looked up at her and nodded after a full minute. He grabbed the whiskey bottle off the sink and took a swing of it, wincing.

Rey grabbed the most close-knit cloth she could find from the linen closet in the hall. It was one of hundreds of pillow cases, so she didn’t even feel bad using it for cleanup. She could bleach it if her conscious got the best of her. She dampened it with warm water and delicately took his chin in her hand.

“This is going to hurt,” she murmured. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily through flared nostrils as she cleaned.

He was trembling by the time she was done and gulped down more liquor as she found bandages under the sink. Rey held her breath as she gently pressed the tape against his face. His eyes were open now, watching her intently.

Once she was done, she washed her hands and turned to him. “All done.” She flashed him a false smile.

He frowned. “Thanks,” he said, which may have been the first time she’d heard him say that word. He got away without saying it a lot. 

“You’re welcome.” She hesitated, wringing her hands. “If I leave for the night, will you be okay?”

She really liked Leia and Han; they were the closest thing she had to a caring family. They had taken in a fifteen year old runaway and given her a place to live and a job. She owed them and didn’t think they would forgive her if she left their son alone if he wasn’t okay.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, reaching out for her hand as she turned to leave the room. She froze at his touch and twisted around. Ben was standing over her, and before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her. 

He was _kissing her_. 

Her heart just about leapt out of her chest and she kissed him back half worried about his stitches, half completely flabbergasted at this situation. Just as she reached out to touch him, he pulled back. Her eyes lingered closed for half a second and he pushed passed her in the doorway into the hall.

“You should go,” he told her, locking himself upstairs in the attic.

He was gone the next day when she came in to clean.

**

Ben scoffed. “It was a kiss of gratitude. For helping me.”

“Gratitude?!” The word came out of her like a shout. It startled him to a stop. “Are you kidding me? You stuck your tongue in my mouth and it was a ‘kiss of gratitude’? What the fuck, Ben.”

“Huh,” he said, looking at her up and down. Normally, she would have felt self-conscious about it, maybe blushed or let her thoughts go wild, but right now, she was angry. He wasn’t going to get away with this. “You seem different.”

Rey tossed her arms out to her sides. “Nope. I’m still me. You’re just too used to walking over me and everyone else who ever tried to be nice to you to notice. _Hello_ , I’m a person, I have fucking feelings and a personality!” Her chest was nearly heaving.

They had somehow made it all the way back to the stairs and that accursed bathroom. Her face got hot just thinking about that stupid kiss. Was she so naive as to think that he would return from where he was and come running into her arms? She wanted to kick herself.

“I can see that,” Ben said, watching her with his head tilted to the side. “Why _did_ you always try to be nice to me?”

“I didn’t try, I was always nice.” Rey glared at him. “And because you were here, and I was here, what else was I supposed to do? I don’t hate someone with no basis, like _some_ people.”

Ben crossed his arms. It made his pecs swell and she got mildly distracted by just how broad his torso was. How could one person take up so much space?

“I don’t need you to say something you don’t mean, but I need to know.” She stepped toward him, not backing down.

“I—” He paused, clamping his jaw shut. He knew better than to lie to her unless he wanted her to puke all over him. 

“Do you hate me?” she asked, continuing to move forward. He backed up slowly.

“No.”

“Do you like me?”

“You’re one of the few people I don’t mind being around.”

Not a lie. Her stomach fluttered, this time for a good reason. “How do you feel about me, Ben?”

His back hit the dark wood-paneled wall. His hands flew down to his sides to steady himself. Something cracked behind his dark eyes, showing her a tiny bit of light from inside.

“Come on, Benjamin. Use your words. You went to all those fancy prep schools and colleges. I know you have it in you.”

“You’re different,” he said, voice low and deep.

Rey shook her head again. “No. I’m the same. You just never saw me.” Her voice broke a little at the end.

Ben’s brows twitched into a frown. “You think I never noticed you?”

“You noticed me. We shared many a barb, I remember them all. But there’s a difference between noticing and seeing. I’ve always just been the help. Your parents’ charity project.” She took a step back. She wasn’t supposed to be letting him get to her. Not like this. Not about the stuff that hurt her deep inside.

“Fuck.” He dragged a hand over his face. “Rey, I was always too fucking caught up to give a fucking shit about anyone but myself. But I saw you. I noticed you.”

He wasn’t lying. Her throat constricted. 

“You were always trying to be so nice to me and I was a complete fucking tool.”

“I agree,” she choked out, crossing her arms. The sliver of skin between her shirt and jeans no longer felt empowering. She longed for a big comfy jumper.

“I figured after all of that you wouldn’t want to see me ever again.”

She wanted to. His kiss tormented her day and night. “You were wrong.”

“Apparently.” He tried pushing his hair out of his face again. Failed. Again. She wanted to help him, but she still hadn’t gotten what she wanted. Which was a real answer.

“I—I’ve been falling in love with you for years, Ben,” she said, voice more even than she thought it would be. “Every time you came home with another injury. Every time you fought with your parents. All I wanted to do was to comfort you and help you. But you never wanted help. I stayed away because I didn’t want you to hate me too.”

“I don’t,” Ben said quietly.

She blinked, praying the tears prickling her eyes would stay where they belonged. “I know that now. But where does that leave us?” The word _us_ sounded so wrong when paired with the two of them. But it was true. In this instance, there was an _us_. No matter what he said.

“I’m a mess, Rey. I’m a twenty-first century monster. I left after I kissed you because I just assumed you’d push me away like everyone else. I didn’t want to hang around and get hurt so I took off.”

“But I’ve never left.” She step forward. “I’ve been here this whole time.”

Ben looked down at her, face more open and vulnerable than she’d ever seen it. “I never said I was smart. I figured you were nice to me because I was the son of your employers.”

“Not just.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

He was right. She had never said or did anything explicitly to tell him how she was feeling. He was always so far away, she didn’t know how. But here she was, doing it, pushing forward and telling him how she felt. 

“How was I supposed to tell you? You’re—you. I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want you to put up your walls and be mean to me.” His brushoff at the Cantina was fresh in her mind and spiked her anger again.

“I’m mean to everyone. It’s my natural defense. I go there because it’s easier than facing what I’m feeling.”

“What are you feeling? Ben—I need to know. I don’t think I can survive much longer without knowing.” She knew that sounded desperate and stupid, but it was the truth. 

_I don’t love you_ rang through her ears. She remembered the rolling in her stomach as he spoke. What did it mean, what did it all mean?

“Do you love me?” she asked when he didn’t reply, his gaze drifting to the ornate carpet under her feet. “Ben.” Her fingertips brushed his chest over his heart.

“I don’t know,” he said, eyes snapping to hers. Her stomach stayed still. “I don’t know. Do I know how to love someone?”

The pleading in his voice hit her square in the chest. 

“Do I deserve it?”

The anger was sapped from Rey as his eyes begged her for answers. She had none, not really. “Everyone deserves love,” she said. 

In a blink, she found herself putting her arms around his shoulders. He was stiff under her grip for a few minutes before he relaxed, wrapping his arms around her torso and holding her tight. His face buried in her shoulder, her neck, she squeezed him and ran her fingers through his hair. 

“It’s okay,” she said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. “It’s okay, Ben.”

His shuddering breath against her neck told her that he was crying.

They stayed that way for a long time, until the hall clock cuckoo’d and scared them both half to death. Ben stood back slowly, though he didn’t remove his arms from around her. Rey held his face in his hands and wiped his damp cheeks.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said, averting her gaze.

“At least you’re being honest,” she said, managing a small, but genuine smile.

He settled back against the wall. “You’re not ready for the fucked up mess I am.”

Rey settled her hands on his neck. “It’s okay. I love you. You don’t _not_ love me. We’ll figure it out.”

Ben frowned, rubbing his thumbs against her sides absently.

“If you stay,” she added. “You can be with me. It doesn’t have to be a big thing. We can see how it goes. How we’re feel—”

He cut her off, crushing his lips against hers. It was like Rey had slipped into a dream. She melted against him and he cupped her face with one of his hands. They were trembling a little and she stroked her fingers down the back of his neck.

“I’ll stay,” Ben said in the most gentle tone she’d ever heard from him, resting his forehead against hers. Their eyes were still shut. “I’ll stay.”

He wasn’t lying.


End file.
